


Noisy

by diemarysues



Series: Don't Turn Me Into Anything... Unnatural [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So the nephews come to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noisy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/gifts), [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



> /sighs at self/  
> This is rushed. Just bear that in mind.

“Drat.” Gandalf squinted at his staff. “I hadn’t expected _that_ to happen.”

 

This announcement was met with twin indignant fury.

 

“If you want to blame anyone, I suggest you find your uncle.” The Wizard huffed and turned away. “Or Bilbo.”

 

* * *

 

“Excuse me!”

 

The white-furred dog, one of Beorn’s many friends, blinked before looking towards the direction of the voice. Then she dropped onto all fours. “Yes, Master Fíli?”

 

It was Fíli’s turn to blink. “You know who I am?”

 

“Each Dwarf has a distinctive scent, though perhaps only to our kind.” She pawed at an itch behind her right ear before sitting. “But, come – you require assistance.”

 

Kíli cleared his throat. “We wanted to know if you’ve seen – or smelled – Thorin and Bilbo. The tall, dark, grumpy Dwarf and the short, fair, uh… sarcastic Hobbit.”

 

She looked amused. “I have indeed, little ones. They are in the back garden, by the fig trees.”

 

“Ooh, figs! Oh, um.” Fíli managed a passable bow. “Thank you for your help.”

 

Kíli chimed in just a moment behind him. “Yes, thank you very much. And…”

 

“And?”

 

The Dwarf’s brown eyes were wide and hopeful. “Are there any more honey cakes?”

 

…they’d never heard a dog laugh before.

 

* * *

 

“Thorin, will you just help me?”

 

Rather than do that, he sniffed disdainfully. “I don’t see how twisting the stem off will help you.”

 

“Well it is the only way I can manage this fig. I’ve no spiced wine to poach it with.” He sighed gustily. “Although perhaps I can beg some cheese off Beorn…”

 

“If nothing else, that fig will be more than enough for your tiny stature.”

 

Bilbo scrunched his nose up. “But you’ll have to _help_ me.”

 

Thorin stayed firmly where he was, sitting on his haunches mere inches from Bilbo. He flexed his claws. “You should wash that first.”

 

“Oh, it’ll be fine.” Bilbo placed his hands – front paws – on the fig.

 

“It fell. On the _ground_.”

 

The Hob – hamster – looked unimpressed. “You’ve fallen on the ground as well.”

 

“And I was safe to eat after every time?” Thorin bared his fangs in a grin, carefully curling his tail around his body so he could watch for the doubtlessly amusing reaction from the Company’s burglar. It didn’t come.

 

“That’s hardly information I’m privy to.” It looked like he was raising his eyebrows, as much as a mouse-like animal could have eyebrows. “Unless you’re offering.”

 

His ears pricked up with interest. “That –”

 

“Uncle!”

 

…that was his nephews. Very close and suspiciously low to the ground. _And_ they knew that he was a cat. He turned around, rising to his four feet. Just what had –

 

Oh. Oh no.

 

It was easy enough to tell the two apart – Fíli was still fair-haired and Kíli the darker. But they were… what were they? They were bigger than Bilbo – which wasn’t saying much – yet smaller than Thorin. Their ears were large and floppy, their tails two inches long and twitchy, while their legs were strangely short. Kíli’s fur was shaggier and Fíli’s whiskers drooped like his moustache had.

 

Thorin growled. “What has that fool Wizard done _now_?”

 

“Well to be fair, Fíli did annoy him. You know how he is.”

 

Fíli head-butted his brother in the shoulder. “I wasn’t the one making unreasonable demands of him.”

 

“Even so, I –”

 

“Silence!” Thorin barked. (Perhaps not the most appropriate verb choice given the circumstances…) “Now that we have established that it is indeed Gandalf’s doing, I would like to know what you two have done.”

 

“That makes it sound like it’s our fault,” Kíli muttered.

 

“Considering past experience –”

 

“Thorin.” Bilbo padded to his side, having abandoned his fig for the moment, managing to look admonishing even with curly brown fur and a pastel pink nose. He met pale eyes before plonking himself into place, facing Fíli and Kíli. “And lads, let’s get this done as painlessly as possible, shall we?” He narrowed his eyes, seeming to anticipate the reply Fíli had forming on his tongue, and said quickly, “Explanation on what I am will follow after you’ve answered your uncle’s questions to his satisfaction.”

 

The uncle in question grew warm at this quiet support, and shifted so his side pressed against Bilbo’s more firmly.

 

Thanks to the Hobbit-hamster’s intervention, the answers he sought were divulged quite quickly and painlessly (although those descriptors were used only in comparison with previous attempts at gleaning information from his sister-sons). But even as Thorin was thinking this…

 

“So you’re a rat?” Fíli reached out as if to bat Bilbo on the head, but pulled his paw back hurriedly at the growl from Thorin.

 

“A hamster.” Bilbo shot a sardonic glance up at Thorin, and the King was reminded of how they had gone through a similar line of questioning. (Though it had to be pointed out that he wasn’t as silly as his nephews.) “Not quite a rat.”

 

“Look like a rat,” Kíli remarked, crouching down low to the ground. Not that it took much for him to reach the ground.

 

“If anyone looks like a rat, it’s you and your brother,” Bilbo said pertly. “What with your tails.”

 

Fíli swished his to and fro. “But Bilbo, we –” He broke off, eyes suddenly wide and excited. “Are those figs?”

 

Bilbo turned. “Yes they are. Your uncle was supposed to help me with removing the stem, but –”

 

Fíli appeared to take no mind of Bilbo’s answer beyond the initial ‘yes’, and bounded over to the fruit. Kíli followed at a more sedate pace (yes, Thorin was aware how bizarre that sounded) and the both of them made short work of the fig Bilbo had had his eye on earlier, notably _not_ removing its stem beforehand.

 

It was the odd sound that emerged from their throats that puzzled Thorin, though. It sounded like, like _purring_. But they weren’t –

 

He and Bilbo turned to each other as they realised the obvious at the same time. The ears, the tails, the purring, the stumpy bodies… there was only one conclusion.

 

Cathamsters.

**Author's Note:**

> A kitten and a hamster flirting good gods I need help.


End file.
